


500 words you should know: #189 FICKLE – for Fire Sign

by Shamashe



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-06
Updated: 2015-12-06
Packaged: 2018-05-05 04:47:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5361965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shamashe/pseuds/Shamashe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack’s angst about loving Phryne.</p>
            </blockquote>





	500 words you should know: #189 FICKLE – for Fire Sign

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, my first attempt at writing angst. I’d love feedback.

**Fickle**

fick·le

_adjective_

**:**   Unreliability because of perverse changeability and incapacity for

   Steadfastness

:  Changing opinions often

 

Jack woke up in a sweat.  Again!  How many times this week, this month?  How many distracted moments, preoccupied thoughts, unfulfilled temptations, erotic dreams?

He sat up on the side of his bed and buried his head in his hands.  His heart ached, his brow knit, he felt a headache coming on.  He had to make a decision.  Soon!  

He either had to accept that she would never be his exclusively and take that risk, or let her go, as he knew he couldn’t be with her and then be cast aside, as she would most certainly do when the next man came along. 

She was too capricious, too fickle to ever want to stay in a committed relationship.  He cared for her too much not to want it.

But what did he really have to offer her? Did he think his heart was enough? How could she think so - when she had so many other, more glamorous and intriguing options.   And yet, when she turned to him, when she confided in him, when they were close and in sync, he wondered if she really did need all the others?

She flirted and flaunted and tried to seduce, tempting and taunting him without mercy.  Always leaving him to make the decision, always seeming to want him. But did she really, or was it just the thrill of the chase for her?

He sometimes believed it was about him. But then he would hear of another, see her in the society pages.  How could he compete, how could he measure up to the excitement and the riches?  Riches he didn’t have.

But there were times.  Recently, a lot of times, when she did seem to want just him.  But his fear of getting hurt got in the way.  Kept him from taking the next step she always seemed to be setting him up for.

He wondered, “What if he tried? What if he told her the truth? Could he accept her answer?” Breathing hard at the emotion of his internal dialogue, he flopped back down in his bed.

The truth was that he was in love with her, deeply and perhaps intractably.  But oh, it hurt. He didn’t see a way to share it or fulfill it with her.  He felt destined to “unrequited love.”  God, how he hated Shakespeare right now! 

He yearned to tell her, to just lay it on the line and ask her to join him in the exploration of it.  To be with him.  To choose him.  To be faithful to him.

He didn’t want to change her or make her into some version of his fantasy of a partner or a wife.  He simply wanted to share life with her.  As she was. But not all on her terms!  He needed the trust and he needed a guarantee of sorts – although he was ashamed to admit it. 

“Damn!  Why can’t she see how I feel?  Why can’t she have the compassion she feels for so many others, for me?  Why can’t she love me?  Why am I not good enough for her?  Why does love have to hurt this way?”  He turned over and punched his pillow.

He needed to get up, get going, get ready. But he felt immobilized. Encased in his sorrow and hurt. “If only I didn’t love her so damn much!”

 

“Then you’d _what_ , Jack?” 

He opened his eyes, blinking, then bolted upright - too fast to be balanced and had to sit down.  Phryne was standing in the doorway, her arms and legs crossed, looking at him with a mixture of emotions on her face.

“How long have you been standing there-how did you get in-why are you here?”

“I think your question should be,  _what_ did I hear, Jack?”

“Hear?”

“Yes, you’ve been talking for the last 15 minutes, apparently to yourself.”

“You, you heard that?”  His face reddening.

“Yes, I did.  I heard the words and I heard the emotion and I heard the truth, Jack, the gut wrenched truth.”  Phryne paused and looked at Jack, who had once again buried his head in his hands.

She walked over, sat on the bed and put her arm around him, drawing him in to her.  He raised his head with a questioning look on his face. Then she touched his face and looked at him.  “Why didn’t you just tell me?  Why have you kept yourself in turmoil?”

“Phryne,  I… I thought you’d reject me, I thought you’d be upset with me, I thought you’d laugh at me, I thought you’d say no!”  Jack turned away from her, but she gathered him back to her. 

Phryne had never seen Jack so vulnerable before - in such an exposed and intimate state.  In his bed, half awake, in emotional pain. 

Because of her!  How could she not have seen it?  How could she have been so unfeeling and so preoccupied with her games with him?  How could she have let him think he didn’t matter to her – more than she even realized until right this moment?  He was right, she was fickle.  And it was unforgivable.  She had really hurt him.

She held him close, just giving him comfort, letting him ground himself through her.  He was not a weak man, but he was overcome right now and part of it was her fault.  She pushed him back into bed, turned him over and rubbed his back, to soothe him and calm him.  To reassure him that she was real and not another dream.

When he relaxed, he turned over and she stroked his hair back off his forehead.  At her soothing touch, he reached up, caught her hand and kissed it - holding it to his heart.  “I meant it you know, I love you deeply, but I can’t go through having my heart broken by you.”

Phryne said seriously, “Well, Jack, it looks like we have some talking to do.  And you might just be surprised by what I have to tell you!  After all, being fickle also means changing opinions.”


End file.
